A Tale of Vodka and Vanya
by MochiofDoom
Summary: Life is like math, A plus B equals C, right? But what happens when you take an American with a hero complex and an insane Russian who's life goal is for everyone to become one with him and throw them into a cabin in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm? This is one equation you do not want to solve... RusAme.
1. Chapter 1

**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA, IT BELONGS IT IT'S RESPECTFUL OWNER.**

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The cold winter wind blew it's way among the city, making it's way among the trees, a flurry of snow in it's wake. Civilians made their way by a building, unaware of the pure chaos that was happening inside the seemingly normal structure. A building that was currently occupied by a very 'unique' group of people.

"Hey dudes! I know you guys are as excited as I am for Christmas, but you totally need to listen to my awesome ideas!" America shouted excitedly across the meeting room. The countries were currently all in Russia a week away from Christmas for a world meeting, and for the past hour they have been doing nothing but argue. Typical world meeting.

"I agree with America-san." Japan stoically said, earning a few glares.

"Don't just agree with whatever he says!" Switzerland yelled from across the room.

"I don't think that listening to you ramble on about hero's is going to solve any problems." England said, sipping the cup of tea that rested in his hand.

"Angleterre, what other little 'problems' would you like him to solve?" France added with a smirk before being tackled to the floor by the Englishman.

"You Western nations are so immature, it's a wonder how any of you survived more then a century." China sighed as the two europeans briefly glared at China before England tugged at France's hair and their fight resumed.

"Well at least we don't have to restrict the amount of kids a person can have because your people were whores and kept popping out the babies!" Prussia laughed, receiving a bloody nose in return from China's wok.

"China, don't hi- wait, who let Prussia in here?!" a very annoyed German yelled to no one in particular.

"Kesesesese, don't have such a stick up your ass, West." Prussia yelled back, howling when China hit him again. "OW! What was that one for?"

A very visible tic formed on Germany's brow as he slammed his fists on the table. "Everyone _shut up!_" he angrily shouted, but to his surprise no one even bothered to listen.

Germany started massaging his temples as he felt a massive headache coming on. "Hey, yo, dude, Germany!" America said as he slapped Germany's shoulder, making even the muscularly built German almost fall over. "Ja, what is it?" Germany said annoyedly, fed up with the nations for one day. "I know a way for them to stop their arguing!" America said with a laugh, ignoring the harsh voice warning him. "I don't know what your doing, but-"

"Hey everyone!" America yelled, grabbing the attention of the few quieter nations. "FREE DRINKS ON ME TONIGHT!"

A wave of silence enveloped the room before the deafening sound of cheering was heard, blocking out whatever America was about to say next. By the time the cheering was done, some of the more perceptive nations could hear a faint muttering sound coming from America's direction.

"B-but, I was about to say psych... Holy hamburgers, i'm screwed... Maybe I can dump it all on Canada..." America muttered, before springing back into action once a brilliant plan came into mind.

"Yes! I can dump the tab on Canadia!" He yelled, earning a few confused glances from the occupants of the room.

"Who?" Kumajiro asked, and the confused bears owner slowly petted his head from the corner of the room, fearful of the Americans plans for the night. "I'm Canada..."

* * *

"Finally the world meeting is over!" America cheered, making his way over to this brother as the other nations discussed the local bars. "Hey Canadia!" Canada faintly said hi, grateful for the fact that America even remembered him at all.

"So... about earlier. I sort of screwed up with the whole tab thing, and I was thinking that you could tell the bartender that it's on you. Thanks! Come on!" America said, rushing out the door, leaving a poor confused Canadian behind in his tracks, wondering what had just happened. "Maple..."

He caught up with the nearest nation, which just so happened to be England. "Hey Artie!" He called out, getting the other nations attention. "My name isnt 'Artie' you idiot." He said, rolling his eyes at the younger nation. "Yeah, yeah, Iggy. So where are we going?" America excitedly said, causing the Brit to sigh.

"We're going to a place thats a little ways from here, but is supposed to have a wide variety of liquor. Good luck with the tab, most of the others will probaly drink until they drop." England mentioned, a look of pity in his eyes for the poor sod.

"Don't worry about me, I've got it all covered..." America said mysteriously, making the Englishman give him a look of confusion before they walked out of the door into the miserable weather.

"Dude, it's freezing out! There's already, like, what, five inches of snow on the ground and we were only in there for two hours!" America complained, zipping up his bomber jacket and pulling it above his nose, earning a cross look from his companion. "Put your collar down, you look ridiculous." England chastised, looking a bit pink himself from the cold. America just looked at him like he was insane. "Do you think I care? It's absolutely freezing! It must be two degrees out here!" He complained, just as they turned the corner and a thought came across America's mind. "Umm... England?"

"Yes?" England sighed, getting tired of the American's antics. "This is a life or death question, are you going to be drinking?" America cautiously said, eyeing his former caretaker, earning a confused stare in return. "What are you talking about, we're going to a pub, of course I'm going to drink." He said, staring as the other nations face slowly turned horror stricken.

"Oh no..." America breathed, stopping in his tracks. Realization slowly seeped onto his face, and all he could do was stand there, a whirl wind of thoughts blowing through his mind. However, one reoccurring thought stayed in the forefront of it all. 'We are all totally screwed...'

"Well, what's the worst that could happen?" he muttered to himself before trailing after England, unaware of the sheer irony of that one statement.

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"Gimme 'nother bottle o' whiskey!" England slurred, twirling his latest depleted bottle with his finger.

The nations were all currently at a bar, and things were going smoothly so far. If you call England being drunk off his ass, the others slowly going the same route, and France flirting with everything but the potted plant in the corner normal. Unfortunately that was considered normal. However, the peace was about to be disturbed, for better or for worse no one knew.

"Um, Artie? Are you okay?" America said worriedly, slightly questioning the sanity of the usually refined nation.

"Wha'r ya talkin' bout, 'o course I'm a'right! Baka America! Baka baka baka baka..." England chanted, faintly beating his fists on the American's shoulder. If he was questioning his sanity earlier, he was now certain that the Englishman had officially lost it.

"Dude, what does that even mean?" said, wrinkling his nose up as England leaned over from his ramblings and puked on the person beside him, which just so happened to be the last person he would ever wish to puke on.

"Kolkolkolkolkol..." Russia darkly laughed, his aura spiking a dark purple, making many of the nations flinch. This was not the case with all of them, as some of the braver ones stood and watched, and Prussia started taking a video with his phone.

"U-Um, England?" A new voice appeared in the silence, and America looked down to see Latvia shaking in the nearest corner, surrounded by the other two, also trembling Baltics. "Y-you might want t-to run..."

"Kesesesese~! This is awesome!" Prussia laughed, before getting hit in the back of the head with a frying pan.

Russia took a moment to look down and access the damage, before his eyes widened in shock. "My scarf..."

While his large jacket had taken the majority of the blow, there was a few small areas of puke found on the fringe of his scarf. He slowly looked up, the same shocked look in his eyes. But there was also something else hidden behind his violet eyes. Blood lust.

"You ruined my scarf." Russia started with venom in his eyes, getting up from the stool and pulling out something silver from his coat. A pipe. "You _ruined _my scarf, you will pay. Dearly." A crazed chuckle made itself heard around the room.

America, while drunk, could see this was a situation that England definitely couldn't deal with. "Dude, chill, it's just a scarf, you can get one anywhere." This was obviously not the right thing to say to the crazed Russian, as he was about to find out.

Russia's eyes flicked over to America, pure hatred seeping from his clouded eyes. "Just a scarf? _Just a scarf?_" He seethed, pointing the obviously well used, blood stained metal in America's direction, making the usually heroic nation take a step back. "That scarf means more to me then my own life, so it seems as though I'll have to take another's life in repayment, _da_?" Another chuckle._  
_

"Now," His eyes swept between the two, taking in the sight. America had England in a headlock, trying to keep the Brit in place as he desperately thrashed towards Russia, muttering near incomprehensible mantra of death threats. "Which one of you goes first?" His eyes swept the two once more before landing on it's target.

He slowly made his way towards the two, the rest of the countries tensing and the regular patrons of the bar long gone. He then stopped in front of England, who's drunken fighting spirit waned slightly in a late coming fear, before spiking into an all time high.

"Ya wanna' fight?" England slurred, before taking something out of his jacket that wavered Russia's fierce glare into one of shock.

"I-is that what I think it is?" he slowly started, before breaking out into a fit of chuckling. "What do you think you're going to do with that?"

England held up his magical wand, a grin on his face. "Come 'a me an' see for yourself."

Russia took up this invitation gladly as he raised his pipe up from where it was previously resting on his thigh, a smile on his face as they both prepared to attack.

"Stop it!" America yelled, pushing himself in between the two just as England fumbled a spell that hit him and Russia, pulling him into what felt like a whirlpool, slowly dragging him under and under, before he hit rock bottom and fell unconscious, his mind slowly ebbing away into nothingness.

They both suddenly disappeared, leaving the room in complete silence, no one wanting to speak a word. However, one lone voice called out into the silence. "... What just happened?"

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**Hey guys! MochiofDoom here, and before I ramble on, I wanted to make a few things clear. 1) This is RusAme, Russia x America, whatever you want to call it, not UsUk. So for those of you who for some inexplicable reason didn't read the description before clicking on this, now you know. 2) This is the first ever time I have ever tried to write a story in the romance genre, but you won't (mostly) have to worry on that front, as I have an awesome slav- *ahem* _beta_ that will make sure I don't screw up too badly! ;D Her name is The Sword is my Pen, so now you know that I am (again, mostly) failure proof! So now that that's out of the way, what do you guys think? I tried to keep it as light as possible, but I was listening to Three Days Grace whilst writing that last portion so let's just say that it's an interesting concoction and leave it at that. Thank you guys for reading and I hope you stick around for the craziness that is to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA, IT BELONGS TO IT'S RESPECTFUL OWNER.**

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Light hazily shined through the window, faintly illuminating the room, showing the rooms interior. A small bed was placed inside the far corner of the small room, taking up a fair portion. To the left of it lay a desk, looking as though it hadn't been used in years, with a thick layer of dust on it's smooth surface. It was completely silent, aside from the steady breathing coming from the room's sole occupant, Alfred F. Jones.

"Mmm..." He stirred, slowly opening his eyes, before instantly bolting up from his very uncomfortable position on the floor, a splitting headache in it's wake.

Alfred pressed his hand onto his head, narrowing his eyes from the pain the sunlight brought on his eyes. After a few moments of getting used to the sensation of the sunlight on his eyes he gradually opened them, for the first time taking note of his surroundings.

The first thing that he noticed was that everything was unfamiliar to him, from the coat rack besides the door to the musty ceiling light slowly rocking back and forth, as though a light breeze had made it's way into the building. The second was the obvious age of the furniture in the room, it looked as though the furniture was hand crafted, if the inconsistencies in the cut in the dull colored wood was anything to go by. The third being that it was absolutely freezing.

He wrapped his arms around his figure and shivered, for the first time since he woke up got up from his position on the floor and stood, his stiff muscles straining with misuse, still shivering from the chill. As he stood, he realized that the outer edges of the room seemed to be blurry. Mind still clouded from sleep, he hazily reached down to grab his glasses, and with slight trouble put them on the bridge of his nose. When the coolness of the metal of the glasses hit his face, he finally started to wake from his daze.

His face suddenly turned confused, as the realization of the knowledge of where he was, or lack thereof, suddenly hit him. He sighed, before muttering to himself in confusion. "Where the heck am I?"

He shook himself from his daze, making his way towards the door. With every step, the wood paneling of the floor creaked underneath his weight, making him uneasy about the safety of the floor he was standing on. He opened the creaking door and exited the room, taking in the new area.

The room in front of him was slightly larger then the bedroom he had just came out of, though not by much. Three doors were in the room, four if you counted the one he just came out of. The room was easily as dusty as the last, if not more. There was a sparce amount of furniture, with another ceiling light, a table, fireplace, a window showing a almost completely white background with a flurry of snow, and underneath it lay a couch and..."

Alfred screamed, causing the other occupant of the room to burst from their sleep, falling off the couch they were sleeping on, crashing onto the floor. This only caused the American to freak out even more, taking a startled leap backwards, before smacking his head onto the wall behind him, a loud crack sounding across the room as his head broke a hole into the wooden wall. His hand went up to clutch the back of his forehead, his eyes opening slightly to see the person in front of him getting up from their position on the floor.

"Russia?" Alfred said, startled. The other nation looked up at him, a mixture of confusion and rage mixing on the Russian's face, reaching for something glimmering out of his jacket, before pausing.

"Amerika?" Ivan questioned, pointing the pipe that was hidden inside his coat at the American, who was promptly having a panic attack. "Russia?! Oh no, what is he doing here?! Don't tell me he's after... after the..." a look of horror came upon Alfred's face, confusing the Russian even more. After a few minutes of Alfred mumbling about aliens, Russia finally had enough.

"Amerika!" Ivan, frustratedly shouted, gaining the American's attention. "No, I am not after this 'Tony'. What am I doing here?" He said, gaining a shrug from Alfred. "I could ask you the same question." Alfred pouted, his moment of being a hero lost. Ivan sighed, putting his pipe away, obviously not needing it for this idiot, as much as he wanted to hit him over the head. Suddenly a thought ran across Alfred's mind "What were we doing last night?"

"If I can remember correctly, we had all went to the bar at _someones _suggestion." Ivan pointedly said, earning a wince from Alfred. "Yeah, yeah, I know that much. But what about after?" He sighed. "I do not remember, if I did I would have told you the first time."

Alfred groaned, pushing his way past the Russian to the small, worn love seat Ivan had previously been sleeping on. He sat down, resting his face on his hands in distress. "I cannot believe we are stuck here for who knows how long a week before Christmas. In a snow storm no less! What could make this worse..." Alfred mumbled to himself. "I have a guess! The fact that I am stuck here with you, da?" Ivan cheerfully exclaimed, earning a mantra of curse words from the rooms other occupant.

Alfred stood up from where he was sitting in frustration, throwing his hands up into the air in defeat. "Fine! I'm too heroic to be hanging out with a communist anyway! I'm going to check out the rest of this cabin." Alfred glared, going to the closest door to him and violently pulling it open, instantly regretting his decision when a mantra of snow flew onto Alfred's face.

A string of curse words flying faster then the wind flew out of the Americans mouth as he quickly shut the door, the front half of his body completely white.

Ivan doubled over laughing, chuckling mockingly at Alfred, who was half standing, half kneeling at the doorway, trying desperately to brush the snow off of himself- and failing miserably.

"So how did that plan work out for you?" Ivan chuckled, watching Alfred walk back from the door, soaked. This resulted in the dripping American to send him a glare, before wrapping the thin blanket that he saw on the couch around himself. He took a breath and sighed, sitting on to the love seat.

"Just so you know, I found out a very important detail from that!" Alfred exclaimed, which just caused the Russian to cock his head back at him.

"Which was?" Ivan responded back to him.

"I figured out that this door leads outside!" Alfred said with a sparkle in his eyes.

Ivan just chucked at him. "And you just figured that out, with the only window being on the wall that the door was on?" Ivan said, causing the American to falter a bit, before jumping right back.

"Well you never know, it could have lead to Narnia!"

"Amerika, the only way to go to Narnia is through a closet."

"Oh shut up."

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**Hey everyone! MochiofDoom here and back with my ridiculously long authors notes! I'm sorry for the hiatus, those who are fans of my other story The Last Straw will know (partially) why I was on a hiatus. For those of you who aren't, what are you doing with your life? (I'm kidding.) So tell me what you think? I personally think this chapter was better then the last one, but A) I suck at transitions and B) I suck at writing groups of people, especially ones that I am not used to writing, so at least I am out of that stage, for now at least. Remember, if you guys have any thoughts or suggestions, don't be afraid to leave a review. See you guys in the next chapter.**


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